Sophie Weston

The Millionaire's Virgin


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to his tune; by the time he had finished with her, she’d sing to it too.

      She’d had the worst kind of childhood, but his youth had been blighted too and he’d come through. He’d make no allowances. There were only two women in the world he could trust, and Lisa Bond was neither one of them.

      Bond was a woman with history. Before throwing in her lot with her father, she had lived with her mother in a place that knew no rules or boundaries. She could turn on the ice all she liked, he wasn’t buying it. Beneath that front there had to be a free spirit itching to break out. He would set that spirit free and add her company to his portfolio at a knock-down price. Where business was concerned he had no scruples. Breaking down the opposition was Constantine’s primary objective.

      Like any predator, Tino sensed the change in the air as Lisa Bond walked towards him, as well as the hint of some fresh scent she wore. She was dwarfed by the men in suits flanking her, but her presence more than made up for it. Petite and trim, she had clearly chosen her dark tailored suit to create a certain impression.

      She was more beautiful than her photograph suggested, with luxuriant chestnut-brown hair fixed in an immaculate chignon. Beautiful women frequently used their looks like a weapon in an attempt to disarm him, but Lisa Bond was different—and not just because she had the most compelling sea-green eyes he had ever seen. She had something more. The outcome would be the same. He would take what he wanted and walk away. A woman had betrayed him at birth; only two had won his trust since then; there would be no more.

      The tabloids and the business reports all said Bond was blessed with the attributes of an alpha male mixed together with the subtle cunning of a woman. The tempting sight of her breasts leant some credence to the rumour. Had she forgotten to fasten the extra button? Or was the curve of lush breasts exposed just enough to tease another cold calculation? Either way, it was his ineluctable duty to bring her to heel.

      Tino took no more than a second or two over his assessment. His senses were tuned to the highest level. Whatever happened in the meeting, he would find the key that unlocked Bond Steel’s darkest secrets. Every company had them. He and his people would simply sift through the records until he found out what they were. This ‘negotiation’ was merely a business courtesy—a gesture that meant nothing. The moment Bond Steel’s Achilles heel was uncovered he would strike.

      In the role of gracious victor he might save Ms Bond’s backside—he might not. That would depend on how cooperative she was. The only certainty was that he would be adding another valuable asset to Zagorakis International Inc.

      While this was going on, Lisa was drawing a few fast conclusions of her own, though it was hard to think rationally when her back was still bristling at the unannounced arrival of Constantine Zagorakis. Her diary was planned with all the care of a military operation; she didn’t like it upset. The meeting with Zagorakis Inc had been scheduled for later that morning. She had something to sell; Zagorakis Inc was always hungry. But no one had expected Constantine Zagorakis to turn up in person.

      Lisa had barely had chance to sit down at her desk before her PA, Mike, had alerted her to who was in the building… Zagorakis might as well have swept through it like a firestorm. Grown men were behaving like overexcited children at the mere mention of his presence. Fortunately, Lisa’s speciality was dousing fires.

      Zagorakis Inc had made an offer for one of Bond Steel’s subsidiaries, a small engineering works that had done some good things in the past. The company no longer fitted her strategic vision for the core business, and the cash injection resulting from the sale could save Bond Steel.

      Family-run businesses had dropped out of favour in the City, and the Bond Steel share price had taken a dive. The situation was critical. There were no other serious offers, and if she didn’t nail the deal with Zagorakis she stood to lose Bond Steel, ruin the lives of those who worked for her, and face the type of humiliation that would put back the cause of women in industry a hundred years. Everything was riding on this deal.

      Zagorakis Inc was cash rich and could move fast, which suited her perfectly. But that didn’t explain why Constantine Zagorakis was taking a personal interest in the deal. It was peanuts on the scale of his usual acquisitions. So, why was a world-class predator sniffing around? Because he wanted all of Bond Steel? That was where her suspicion dial was pointing.

      When she found him staring at her, the rumour she had heard about him sprang to mind—he liked to look his prey in the eyes before devouring them. She’d laughed at the time—but now it didn’t seem so funny.

      She resented the Zagorakis-effect. He was like some vast power source that drew everyone’s attention. A typical tycoon— he was ruthless, driven, and utterly heartless. She was no marshmallow herself, which explained the buzz in the building. This was one battle no one wanted to miss.

      Some sixth sense had told him she never sat at the head of the table, but in the middle of her team. Unerringly, he had chosen to stand behind her chair as if he was already poised to take her place. And then he directed one of his minions to the seldom-used chairman’s seat at the head of the table. Who the hell did he think he was? Who was in control here?

      ‘Good morning, gentlemen.’ She didn’t need to raise her voice to command attention, though there was one dark gaze she could have done without. Zagorakis threw off sexual vibes with every move. And with treachery typical of the female body she was already longing for a slice of that high-octane maleness—something she had to get over fast.

      Fortunately, she found that easy. She was Jack Bond’s daughter, after all.

      A bitter smile grazed Lisa’s lips. Thanks to her father she had seen the depths of degradation to which a man could bring a woman. She had no intention of suffering her mother’s fate, of being tossed around like some uncared for rag doll… She had to be in control.

      Tino was immediately aware of the shadow dulling Lisa’s gaze. He had been anticipating a glint of challenge, or some proof of her wild nature. This new, subdued expression was a real disappointment. The hunt was spoiled before it began if the prey was wounded.

      He was relieved when she quickly recovered. His imagination was in overdrive. She had probably missed an appointment at the beauty salon.

      Lisa consciously relaxed her shoulder. It was dangerous to let Zagorakis see how shaken she was, but something about him reminded her of the past…

      It was his presence, his strength—his overwhelming physical strength. Yes, that was it. She shook her head in a fast, instinctive gesture to close the door on those memories that were safer locked away. But for a few seconds the old film replayed in her head. The leader of the commune had been a powerful, awe-inspiring figure, but he had been an evil man, who had grown ever stronger by feeding on the insecurities of his flock.

      It had been Lisa’s misfortune to come to his notice when her body had started developing faster than the other girls’, and she would always be grateful to her mother for helping her to run away before the obscene initiation ceremony he had planned especially for her could take place.

      She glanced around quickly just to check that no one had noticed her brush with the past. No one had. They were all too busy preparing for the meeting. And now the blood was flowing freely through her veins again, and she could feel her cheeks warming up. The past would always be with her, Lisa reflected grimly. And thank goodness for it, it kept her wary, kept her safe.

      ‘Ms Bond.’

      She came to abruptly. Zagorakis was offering to shake her hand in greeting, yet all she could think was how threatening he was. She thought about her father, remembering how his icy control had proved too much for his much younger wife, causing her mother to bolt from the endless round of coffee mornings and race days to the promised freedom of the commune. Her father might have been the mainstay of every charitable committee in the area, but he had remained blind to the fact that her mother’s fragile psyche had been falling to pieces in front of him…

      ‘I’m going to be a free spirit,’ her mother had said, Lisa recalled, curling her lip as she remembered their hectic flight to the commune. The